


Things We Do for Love

by WriteItSmall (scribblemyname)



Series: Comment Fic LiveJournal Stories [142]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Community: comment_fic, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Ice Cream, Natasha Romanov the Grinch, holidayfic, partners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 12:56:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2468954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemyname/pseuds/WriteItSmall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peppermint ice cream in the stores means Christmas is coming. Natasha is not pleased.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things We Do for Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Evil_Little_Dog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Little_Dog/gifts).



> Prompt by evil_little_dog at the LJ Comment Fic comm: [Any, M+/F, Peppermint ice cream in the stores means Christmas is coming](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/563980.html?thread=79362828#t79362828)

There's a terrifying, dreadful, terrible carton sitting on the counter like a sentinel of impending doom.  
  
"Barton," Natasha's voice carries warningly through the apartment, though she's barely raised it. It's all in the pitch.  
  
Clint appears from the other side of the counter where he's been bent over and rummaging in the fridge apparently. "I don't like the sound of that."  
  
She pokes at the hostile object. "Again?" She glowers at the carton, then frowns at him.  
  
His eyebrows come up. "You like peppermint."  
  
"The stores only carry peppermint ice cream—"  
  
"—when Christmas is coming. I know." He still doesn't get it.  
  
Natasha glowers at him. "Again?" she demands.  
  
"Comes every year," Clint answers, clearly mystified. He pops the top and hands her a spoon. "It's Christmas. Enjoy it."  
  
She would if it were just quiet churches and flaming candles and the occasional small gift and well wishes from the few coworkers she names friend. But it's not. Clint never had a Christmas growing up. Clint never had the postcard family dinner as a child and the tree and the presents and the excess and the helter-skelter, hurry-busy, deck the halls and play the Christmas music non-stop until my poor partner is literally sick with it and the cooking and the baking and the secrets and the endless, grating cheer and mistletoe and shopping ( _shopping!_ ) and eating cookies until my poor partner is quite literally sick with them...  
  
She yanks the offered spoon out of his hand and attacks the ice cream with the vim of the mortally offended.  
  
"What'd the peppermint ever do to you?" Clint asks lazily and dips his own spoon in slowly, then licks off the ice cream with a grin.  
  
"No mistletoe," Natasha orders him viciously. "Or tinsel."  
  
He nods acceptance and keeps leaning on the counter eating ice cream, one bite after each of hers.  
  
The things she does for partners.


End file.
